


Busted

by Krystalicekitsu



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Mistaken Identity, Power Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-23
Updated: 2010-06-23
Packaged: 2017-10-19 01:23:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/195326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Krystalicekitsu/pseuds/Krystalicekitsu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was all fun and games, until Cas walked in. Then it was a bit of an embarrassment, and an awkward time. And then Cas walked out. And things got a whole hell of a lot more fun.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Busted

**Author's Note:**

> for [](http://spn-gabriel-sam.livejournal.com/profile)[**spn_gabriel_sam**](http://spn-gabriel-sam.livejournal.com/) [Pick-A-Prompt: 001 (Porn)](http://community.livejournal.com/spn_gabriel_sam/50557.html) with the prompt ' _BUSTED: It was all fun and games, until Cas walked in_.' This is the monster beast of D00M that has been eating my brain since I got this prompt. It was supposed to be 500 words. Due to a mix-up (with the [Fic Exchange](http://community.livejournal.com/spn_gabriel_sam/51893.html)), I thought this needed to be 3'000 words. I didn't realize this until it was already at 1200 words. And then I couldn't get it to stop. -_-;

  


  
The music is so loud it practically vibrates the room. Practically, hell, Sam has to keep twitching his drink over to keep it from taking a suicidal nose-dive off the table.

They're supposed to be finding the siren using the club as a hunting ground, but Sam is a bit preoccupied desperately trying not to vomit as the noise vibrates along his inner ear. He stubbornly takes another drink of his ginger ale. They aren't leaving until they catch the damn thing, so he should just suck it up and get to work.

And he tells himself so.

And tries not to groan as the next song that comes over the loudspeakers has, if possible, even _more_ bass than the previous one. A small part of him wants to slink off into a corner, but he thinks he catches a glimpse of Dean across the room from him and that small part slinks itself into a deeper corner of his mind as he's cursing Dean. Cursing Dean and his angel-voice-ruptured inner ear. Bastard probably can't hear half of the bass.

Curses Dean again.

"Hey there."

The voice is unexpected. He jerks on the bar stool and has to put a hand to the table to keep from toppling over, but he manages to turn around, "Gabriel?!"

The archangel grins at him, "One and only, kiddo."

"What are you _doing_ here? I thought you were out doing-" Sam waves a hand that manages to imply nothing and everything at the same time, "-stuff."

"Got done early. What can I say? I'm just that good."

Sam would frown but Gabriel's hand is suddenly rubbing circles in a steady path working its way up his thigh. Despite the ginger ale, Sam's mouth is dry and he downs the rest of the small glass. Gabriel smirks up at him.

"Come on."

Sam's frowning in confusion but following his lover back to the bathrooms anyway. Gabriel should know better. Even though they've done this many (no, really, _many_ ) times- much to Dean's chagrin- they've never stopped in the middle of a hunt. No matter how good the sex is.

Which isn't to say that Gabriel's resisted temptation on hunts. Saint, that guy is not. Sam is almost always groped. Or kissed.

And that's what he's getting now. Kissed.

And he'd say that it wasn't like Gabriel's usual kisses except- yeah, it doesn’t matter. Sam finds himself grinding against the archangel, moaning like a porn star into his mouth and he absolutely can't get enough. He wants to stay here, just here, forever. He wants to be able to do this forever and yeah, that's one of the things he's really insecure about.

Because they don’t have a relationship.

Whatever this thing is that's not-between them is more of an agreement. Gabriel likes sex, Sam doesn't mind having sex with Gabriel and they both get a good release out of it. But they don’t talk about it. And Sam's hesitant to drag this thing out into the light. Hesitant to ask for more than he’s sure he’ll receive.

And he doesn't _want_ to explain why he finds himself turning to find Gabriel in libraries and diners. Doesn't want to think about things like ordering a chocolate milkshake before the archangel ever shows up. Making sure to stash the last Snickers where Dean can't find it.

Not commenting when he wakes up still sore and sticky with an arm banded securely across his chest, fingers carding through his hair.

He doesn't want to risk losing that.

So, instead, he grinds down, hands clenching on Gabriel's hips, mouth making a rough, wet mess across his throat, biting down on the juncture between shoulder and neck. He envelops Gabriel's smaller frame, shoves him roughly against the tile of the bathroom so hard Gabriel grunts. Presses and holds him there.

Digs fingers in and grinds their cocks together through their jeans. Rucks both shirts up to expose the archangel's stomach, fingers pushing cloth up higher, higher, until he can tease and pull on nipples.

Drag blunt nails across them.

Nip along that jaw. Bite an ear and tongue the holes left by piercings there.

A rustle and he doesn't notice their pants slipping down the floor, except there's suddenly nothing but skin between them, and it's so much easier to grip that sweet, tight ass. He pulls away from the wall enough to massage a finger against Gabriel's hole and the archangel groans.

Slips a finger in dry and prods at Gabriel's prostate before withdrawing it the same time he falls to his knees, kicking aside his jeans.

Gabriel's looking down at him in surprise, "Well, never done that before."

And Sam doesn't even _want_ to stop and puzzle the oddness of that statement (this is one of his favorite things to do to Gabriel), because he wants him _so much_.

He wants Gabriel so much it hurts.

So much it scares him.

Too much.

He swallows the archangel down in one pull and he hums in satisfaction when his throat opens easily. It took him a _long_ time to be able to do that.

Gabriel is writhing above, him making broken noises and panting like he can't catch his breath. He jerks his hips forward and then tries to stop, like he's back at again when they were teaching Sam how to do this.

Sam hums again, more of a growl that rumbles his chest, and swallows.

Gabriel shouts and his hips _thrust_.

And Sam lets him. Lets Gabriel thrust again. And again and again. Lets himself be fucked open at the mouth. Tilts his head back, opens his throat and lets himself be taken away. Revels in the thick, heavy weight dragging across his tongue.

Gabriel's groaning a string of curses and demands above him, hands clenching painfully in Sam's hair, "- _please_ , so good. Too much. _Too-_ Yes, please. God, your mouth. Fuck. Should've taken you- _F-FUCK_ God, please. Please, please, please, please, please. Gonna fuck you open. And fuck you again. Gonna- _ah, please_ \- gonna pound into your ass til you bleed, til you can't walk, can't- **fuck** \- _see straight_ -"

He moans and fights the urge to choke as Gabriel's babbling trails off and the archangel pants above him, thrusting forward further and further. Grabs his hair like a handle, holding him off and then pulling him closer, fast short jerks that jerk his head back before he's pulled forward again.

"Sam, are you-" and a moment of silence before he's pulled roughly away. That must've been Cas, because he's against the far wall with that single motion, his shoulders contacting painfully with the tile.

"Sam!"

And there's Dean, the fucking angel's pet. The perfect little God-send. Poster boy of Ego and Self-Indulgence. Sam wishes he hadn't kicked his jeans away, because the thought of using a knife on little Mr. Perfect is sounding more and more appealing. He's so wound up, he doesn't even notice the knick of the blade until he sees the same copper one slicing into Gabriel's chest-

"NO!"

And then he's standing in a bathroom, fists clenched, staring down at the siren they'd been sent to kill.

And Sam?

Yeah, Sam kinda feels like an idiot.

He stares at the ceiling in a sort of mortified way and really hopes he's not blushing (or that Dean and his angel are too short to see it) before muttering, "Uh, guys? Can I get a little…?"

And reassesses his sudden 'no knifing Dean' policy as said jerk chuckles a bit and leaves with Cas trailing behind, "Sure Sammy. We'll leave you to 'take care of it'."

Sam's head drops down with his gaze and whatever hope of coming out of this with his dignity intact (and without blushing) has just been shot, stabbed, salted and burned, because there he is, standing erect in all his glory.

He wonders if his luck has hit bottom enough for the world to swallow him whole.

Presumably not, because when he looks up from his straining erection, not only is he still in the bathroom, there's a short archangel staring at himself lying on the floor.

"Not a real accurate duplicate, ya know. I'm waaaay hotter than this," Gabriel toeing his own lifeless body makes Sam a bit dizzy for a second, but then those butterscotch (same brilliant colour, _exactly_ the same colour, every time) eyes are on his and he can practically _hear_ the little click the world makes. Everything that he felt from the siren was nothing, and that gaze proves it.

"Hey, kiddo," the words are soft and gentle, but very Gabriel, and Sam finds himself smiling slightly to the hum they make in him.

Sam thinks about moving towards him, about kissing him-

Gabriel snaps and Sam's fully clothed again, the siren's body is gone and it's just the two of them in the small night club men's room. Sam stares at Gabriel for a tense minute as Gabriel studies the tile floor, hands pressed between himself and the sink at his back.

And Sam stares some more, because he's still hard through the lines of his jeans (painfully almost), and _Gabriel's not jumping him_.

In fact, Gabriel looks just a bit guilty, wilted around the edged, like one of those stupid office plants that nobody's watered in a few days.

Gabriel's head snaps up and he blinks at Sam-

Right, archangel-

But if the short idiot doesn't get his act together soon, Sam's going to unzip himself and jerk off right there, audience or not. Because it might have been siren juice that got him so close to jizzing in the middle of a hunt, but the siren didn't appear as some random floozy, it appeared as _Gabriel_. And everything he feels- _felt_ , damnit, _experienced_ \- was in response to _Gabriel_.

Sam's staring straight into the archangel's eyes when he thinks this through and is _not_ surprised in the least when Gabriel's eyes darken with lust (because he was, of course, supplying plenty of mental imagery here) and Gabriel’s mouth drops open just enough to let his tongue run over his bottom lip.

"Sam?" there's uncertainty there, and Sam feels something snarl and snap in his chest milliseconds before his hand jerks out to fist in Gabriel's jacket.

"I'm not that breakable." He growls the words against Gabriel's mouth before plundering it open. And the archangel might not be gripping him close, but the level of detail in his kiss tells Sam he might be getting with the program. Or at least _willing_ to look at the script.

"If you don’t want to do this-," Sam almost snarls at Gabriel to ' _shut up_ ' but he sort of kinda gets that Gabriel doesn't want this to be awkward. Right, because fucking your lover/sex partner/ _whatever_ right after nearly fucking the _doppelganger_ of your lover/sex partner/ _whatever_ wasn't already awkward. But Sam sort of doesn't care.

Because he thinks he gets it now.

This.

This is all he's ever likely to get.

And he's not okay with that. But you know, he thinks he might be able to convince himself he is (Denial and Delusion- Winchester Staples since 1983). As long as things stay _exactly_ they way they've been for the last three months.

So, Sam doesn't tell him to shut up. Instead he growls in that rumble that makes Gabriel go wild, and licks behind his pierced ear. Gabriel shudders underneath him and Sam tries to steer him into the handicap stall at the end.

He won't admit to being relieved when Gabriel doesn't move (the siren hadn't been able to resist- Sam far stronger than the siren's slight frame).

"Sam-," Sam doesn't want to talk, but Gabriel very clearly does.

And Sam's so frustrated and confused, (and maybe just a little bit panicked that this was all coming apart at the seams) that he really doesn't give much more thought to it.

"WHAT?" he snarls and shoves away from Gabriel.

He wants to be calm about this, but every second they're _not having sex_ is another second his overactive imagination has to spin elaborate fairy tales. And Sam is having a hard time fighting that and the thoughts that maybe Gabriel's dropped in on the middle of a hunt because he's here to break it off, and the too-pointed realization that he almost let himself be _raped_ because something looked enough like Gabriel for him to let his guard down.

He really, really wants to be calm right now, because he's not sure what he'd do if he can't pretend.

But Gabriel's not with the program and every time the archangel opens his mouth a little more of those stupid fantasies plays itself out in his head, and the stupid Gabriel in his head gets a bit further in his 'I just want to be friends' speech and the stupid memories of the siren Gabriel-look-alike get a little bit clearer.

"WHAT, Gabriel? I'm not fucking _broken_ , you're not going to ra- _hurt_ me, I'm not under a spell, and I'm fucking _hard_! Could you _get with the program_?!

Gabriel's staring at Sam like he's grown a fifth head and it's started speaking to him in Swahili. Sam doesn't care, whatever he's about to say, but Gabriel doesn’t open his mouth, just stares at Sam and if those damn eyes _weren't_ so fucking entrancing, he'd live up to his earlier threat and take himself out right then and get to work.

But Gabriel stares at him, with those fucking _eyes_ , and Sam's caught between a rock and a very stiff place, unable to finish himself off and distract himself and unable to tear his eyes away from the archangel's. And every second he's not doing _something_ is another second he feels like the walls are collapsing in on him, and his skin is shrinking further, something is expanding in his chest there's not enough air-

Some distant and calculating part of his mind chimes in with, 'Huh. So _this_ is what a panic attack feels like.'

Gabriel is kissing him. Tongue trying to scrape his own raw. Whatever it was that had been squeezing his concentration like a boa constrictor evaporates, or snaps. Pops like a too-full balloon. Gabriel is touching him, hands under Sam's shirt, dipping beneath the rim of his jeans, slips behind the elastic of his shorts the same time a nipple is jerked.

Sam whines.

And the panic becomes a far-off memory, a mirage in the desert. Everything clicks back into place and his mind stops stumbling through the abrupt shift in thinking patterns.

Gabriel hums softly into the kiss he suddenly slows. He slows the pace and Sam is again left reeling momentarily until the hand on his chest strokes over a nipple again, and the hand sneaking underneath his shorts brushes against him.

He gasps and jerks into the touch; Gabriel's hand is unexpectedly lubed up and the archangel wastes no time in wrapping a fist around Sam's dick. Sam jerks again, and Gabriel lets him, twisting his wrist around and letting Sam fuck into his hand. The hand working Sam's nipple disappears and there's a snap of buttons coming undone, and then Sam's shirt is open and his pants are shoved down his thighs just enough for Gabriel to work him free.

Gabriel lets loose his fist long enough for the haze to clear and Sam to glace at him in confusion.

Sam gets out a breathy, "wha-?" before he sees that smirk-

And Gabriel drops down.

And swallows him.

Whole.

Sam keens-  
So hot, so _tight_ , so-

The hand on his balls keeps him from coming, tugging ever so gently each time he comes close. The other is brushing over his ass, kneading, dragging blunt nails over skin.

Sam's babbling nonsense words of ' _yes_ ' and ' _please_ ' and words that don’t mean what he's using them for but all speak ' _more, More, MORE_ ', hips jerking and twisting.

A well lubed finger slips into him with difficulty from his position and his thrusting, but that just makes it all the sweeter when it finds his prostate and just brushes. Sam's words dissolve again and he can only give needy, whimpered noises to the air as Gabriel tugs gently on his balls.

Gabriel hums around him and Sam's _so close_.

Gabriel keeps him ' _so close_ ' for what feels like hours, just gentle suction broken by periods where he'll pull off to lick or suck the head, blow softy against the shaft, before swallowing him down again, finger up his ass never being joined by another and Sam's so desperate, so lose and ready and- and- _so **close**_ he feels like something's living inside his chest.

Sam lost the ability for words a while ago, and Gabriel never stops the not-so gentle tugging on his hair. Just keeps working Sam, micron by micron towards the edge that's looking less like a step and more like a mountain.

Gabriel pulls off one last time and licks a stripe between Sam's balls, "Sam. _Come_."

And Sam does.

He has no breath to make a sound, no thought to pull in air. He's coming so hard Sam thinks he might black out, can feel it from where his head snaps back and his back bows, to the tightening in his thighs, the clenching of his ass around Gabriel's finger, where Gabriel's mouth is working at the crown of his cock and his other hand helps pump him dry before the finger slips out and both hands reach up to catch him, hold him when his legs start to give and then-

Sam's breath is ragged, sharp and painful, like he's spent hours underwater not breathing. He blinks up at Gabriel and hazards a very vague guess that he's on the bathroom floor, but he's not certain because he can't really feel much more than that his limbs have been replaced by Jell-o. He thinks about telling Gabriel that that's a very cruel trick-

When he has the breath back to bother, that is.

He closes his eyes again and Gabriel grips his chin, "Oh, no. You're not doing that again. We're not done yet!"

And he's still too weak to help or hinder when Gabriel picks him up and starts moving him. He can feel Gabriel getting him to stand and he tries to help, really he does.

But it must not be working quite right because Gabriel laughs and mutters something amused.

Sam thinks he sighs, but he can feel the drag of material over his thighs and it's a little distracting. Gabriel's talking about something but Sam still doesn't have the energy to spare for the required concentration, so he doesn't.

He's just got enough of his breathing under control to gasp and snap his eyes open when he feels two fingers at his still-sensitive prostate.

"I told you we're not done yet, Sammy," the voice is breathed into the hair at the back of his neck and he shivers at the sensation.

He groans and his head lolls forward as the fingers delve deeper, twisting and thrusting, working him open. Sam puts more concentration to what's going on and notes the steadying hand low on his stomach the same time he does the knee wedged between his now naked thighs and the cock nudging against his hip.

He rocks back onto Gabriel's fingers and receive a moaning chuckle for his efforts, "Yeah, that's it Sammy. Just like that."

"S- _Sam_ ," Sam somehow manages to gasp it out, to Gabriel's amusement.

"What was that, Sammy?"

He can feel the smile against his neck and shoulders where Gabriel kisses as he groans out, "It's _Sa_ -"

And chokes as two becomes three, three massaging firmly against his prostate for a second before working and forcing their way back inside. The archangel's wicked chuckle behind him lasts for only moments before Sam can feel his attention shift, and the fingers working him open slow, become more deliberate, more probing and inquisitive.

The hand not working on opening him, on destroying him from the inside out, reaches up to twist in his hair and jerk. His head is forced up and he finds himself staring into his own eyes, watching his hips jerk as Gabriel fucks him with his fingers.

He's dazed and half-hard already in the mirror and he whimpers in anticipation at the open mouth kiss Gabriel's aiming at his shoulder. But Gabriel doesn't let it connect, just breathes there for a moment before locking eyes with him in the mirror.

And Sam feels exposed. Suddenly, inexorably exposed. It could be the hand that's forcing him to bare his throat just as much as it's forcing him to meet Gabriel's eyes. It could be the hand working inside him, occasionally thrusting in hard enough to rock his hips forward. It could be the sight of him stripped bare for all the world to see.

Sam doesn't think it's any of these.

"You're _mine_ , Sam," Gabriel's eyes are bright as fire, his voice a contrasting baritone purr in his ear that drops into a rumbling growl at the end of his sentences, "And whatever you may think of me _I don't share_."

The fingers pull back to press firmly against his prostate again and Sam whines, his cock starting to fill in interest again. His eyes start to close as the fingers stay and massage, but the hand in his hair jerks again and the mouth at his shoulder bites down and his spine arches the same time he gasps, eyes flying open.

"You're gonna _watch_ , Sam," Gabriel growls and backs them further into the stall until he can shove Sam against one of the cold, metal walls, fingers in his ass and hand on his head all he uses to steer.

Gabriel flattens his palm over Sam's head after Sam's cheek is pressed into the cool metal. Gabriel growls out an order and Sam complies, wrapping his hands over the top of the stall 'wall'.

Gabriel's fingers drive in forcefully once, pinning Sam's lower half to the stall and the sharp contrast between the cold metal against his thighs and his hot cock makes the hunter whimper. But Gabriel's not done and Sam-

Sam's along for the ride.

"I'm going to hold you right there, Sammy, and you're not going to thrust _at all_. You're just going to come with my fingers up your sweet ass."

And Gabriel doesn't look in the mirror after that, just makes sure that Sam's eyes stay open and that he watches as he fucks Sam with his fingers, slowly and then frantic for a few short seconds, before going back to slow, _painfully_ slow again. Sometimes he feels nearly empty as Gabriel draws all but one finger out, crooking his knuckle to brush close to his prostate. Other's he whines like a cheap whore as Gabriel fucks him hard and fast, three fingers digging in over and over, his ring finger brushing past his prostate on every solid thrust.

Sam can see that Gabriel's enjoying himself, even if his own dick's not getting any attention. Gabriel's cock is standing rigidly at attention, pre-come glistening over the entire shaft. Sam wants to swallow him down and hum until Gabriel explodes.

It doesn't take nearly as long for Sam to come this time, shooting hot ropes of come against the now warm metal and Gabriel doesn't stop him or say anything when Sam's eyes close in ecstasy and he uses his own jizz to rock and slide forward, grinding his own cock between himself and the wall, forcing himself on every back thrust onto Gabriel's fingers. He just lets go of Sam's hair and presses himself along Sam's back, rocking into his hip as Sam rocks back. His fingers in Sam's ass never stutter and Sam's so sensitive, so tired, so exhausted he wants to sleep for a week.

His hands are still locked over the top of the stall, but his knees go out from under him for the second time today and he slides down the wall messily, smearing his own come into his hair and along his face. His fingers finally give and he tumbles down, panting like a winded racehorse.

He blearily opens his eyes and stares up at Gabriel.

He thinks he wants to say something but the words won't even form in his mind, so he gives up. He can feel how disgusting he is, come dripping down his chest and thighs, smeared into his hair and along the right side of his face. He can feel the puddle of it under his left side. He closes his eyes.

When he opens them again he's lying on the bed in their motel room, still naked, still covered in come. Gabriel's kneeling beside him on the bed, but he straddles Sam's waist quickly enough, a hand going to Sam's chest to steady him. Gabriel gazes down at him for a long second (during which Sam's too tired to even _want_ wonder what the archangel's doing), before brushing his other hand through Sam's hair and leaning down to kiss him.

Once on the nose. Just the tip.

Once on each cheek.

A peck to the forehead.

One,

Two,

Three brushes against Sam's lips before he seals them together and lazily plunders Sam's mouth. Sam responds the best he's able but he's well fucked and there are only so many thoughts his mind can process right now. These thoughts being 'breathe' and 'blink'.

Gabriel chuckles against Sam's mouth, breaking the kiss as he grins lazily there, "Still not done yet, Sambo."

Sam groans. Or tries to. It comes out as a weak, very distant relation to a groan, but Gabriel smiles nonetheless.

He snaps and the ceiling above the bed now has an additional mirror to it. Sam blinks up at his reflection.

"Gabr'l?" he's blissed out, but he hasn't failed to notice the archangel's new fondness for the shiny silver surface.

"Hmmmmmmmmmmm?" Gabriel draws out the sound against the new hicky on Sam's throat.

"Was'sth mir'rs?" he tips his head back as Gabriel works on the underside of his jaw.

Gabriel pauses and pulls back to look Sam in the eye, "Siren's show their true form in a mirror."

"Hm," Sam hums into the air. And his mind sits on that for a while. And mulls it over.

Gabriel's leaving hickys down his chest and sides.

Sam's mind works that over some more.

Gabriel's hands push Sam's thighs up an out and Sam notes the feeling of exposure again as Gabriel's mouth finds Sam's soft dick and works it and his hypersensitive balls.

Sam barely has enough energy to squirm and gasp at the over sensitization, but he does and his mind still plays with its new toy.

When Gabriel's cock slides into him in one wet, dragging push, he gasps.

In realization.

His eyes fly open at he stares at Gabriel's back in the mirror, hips thrusting in a slow continuous roll. He groans and his eyes slip shut as he remembers Gabriel's face tucked over his shoulder, eyes sparking as his fingers worked inside him. And again, Gabriel intent on his task, but pining Sam's eyes to watch his reflection in the bathroom mirror with a hand as his own cock went untouched.

 _Reassurance_.

Which was-

Touching.

Insulting.

Endearing.

Frustrating.

Sam couldn't make up his mind, but he knew he was thankful enough to clench down around Gabriel's cock. The archangel's thrusts stutter and he swears, hips jerking in balls-deep harshly. Gabriel's thrust stop and Sam opens his eyes and stares at him, the archangel trembling.

"Sam?"

Sam pulls away quickly before clenching and slamming his hips back against Gabriel's.

Gabriel makes a strangled surprised/pained noise.

"Sam."

Sam does it again, adding a twist. His cock probably won't be ready for another go for at least twelve hours, but he can feel the pleasure tingling along his nerves anyway. He doesn't need to be hard to enjoy this.

Gabriel groans above him and all pretext at a slow, deliberate fuck goes out the window. Gabriel's hips meet his ass with a demanding smack, again and again.

Sam's sure he's going to have fabric burns on his back.

He angles his hips up, lets Gabriel kneel upright, rather than hunching over him and takes every thrust with his shoulders. Every thrust is brutal, almost punishing and Sam's so glad Gabriel spent as much time driving him over the edge as he did, because their normal level of preparation for this would _not_ have been enough.

Sam concentrates and clenches down around Gabriel as hard as he can, and listens as the archangel keens and whines and comes apart above him with a scream.

"SAM!"

And Sam is being filled, so hot, and Gabriel's taut above him like a bow ready to snap.

Before, suddenly, he's not.

Gabriel's knees slide in the sheets as he sinks to a boneless pile over Sam's chest. His cock is still in Sam, and he can feel the half hearted twitches as Gabriel oozes himself out over Sam. His hands are still cupped under Sam's ass and Sam gets the feeling that when he wakes up in the morning, the archangel has a good chance of still being there. But that's alright.

Sam can deal with that.

Because the archangel might never- well. He might never. But he cares at least _enough_. And Sam can hold onto that. Can use that to keep those stupid fantasies away and those stupid fears asleep. If only for a little while, Sam can have that. So he sighs, and gets ready to slip into dreams, filled with Gabriel's cock and buried under Gabriel's weight.

And Sam knows that it'll never be enough. Not really. Not enough to keep him satisfied for any length of time, to keep that gnawing away. But for right now, it is. And hey, Denial and Delusion- Winchester Staples since 1983.


End file.
